For The Broken
by AshesGleamandGlow
Summary: What could have happened to Harry if he'd been treated in a similar manner to all those courageous men who risked both life and limb only to come home and be treated like the scum of the Earth? This is my tribute to the soldiers who come home from the front lines and have no support, no welcome home. ONE-SHOT, dark themes, mentions abuse somewhat, for The Golden Snitch.


The Golden Snitch, Movie Week Three, Avengers

School and House: Mahoutokoro, Mizu

Prompt: 'Born in the USA' — Bruce Springsteen (worth 20 points)

Disclaimer: I do not own the song this is based on, nor the Harry Potter franchise. The idea to write fics based on songs isn't even mine, I'm just coping.

AN: Now, I know Harry isn't American, he's British, but this song wouldn't be the same if I messed with the chorus and changed "USA" to anything else, so I'm keeping it.

This song has been viewed as an All-American ballad talking about how great it is to be American, when it's actually about the terrible treatment the Vietnam veterans had when coming home after the war. Because of this, I stepped outside my comfort zone and wrote what could have happened to Harry if he'd been treated in a similar manner to all those courageous men who risked both life and limb only to come home and be treated like the scum of the Earth.

This is my tribute to the soldiers who come home from the front lines and have no support, no welcome home.

 _Born down in a dead man's town_ _The first kick I took was when I hit the ground_

Freak hadn't meant to break the plate! Honestly, he hadn't! He hadn't been holding it, or even anywhere near it! It just broke! Why didn't uncle Vernon believe him?

 _End up like a dog that's been beat too much_ _Till you spend half your life just covering up_

He woke with a groan. His uncle had been worse than usual last night. His entire torso ached, his arm was throbbing, and he just knew the second he moved, his back was going to feel like someone took a cheese grater to it then poured lemon juice and vinegar over it before deciding that some alcohol on it wouldn't hurt and poured some of that on it, too.

Oh well, more scars, more glamours. Nothing new.

 _Born in the U.S.A., I was born in the U.S.A._ _I was born in the U.S.A., born in the U.S.A._

Mrs. Number Seven was apparently excitedly waiting for her son to get home. He'd been serving in Berlin for the past four or so years, and was on his way back to his motherland. If Harry was in the armed forces, he'd never want to come back.

 _Got in a little hometown jam_ _So they put a rifle in my hand_ _Sent me off to a foreign land_ _To go and kill the yellow man_

Staring down his wand at his greatest nemesis since his first Halloween, Harry couldn't bring himself to feel anything. Winning this war wasn't going to bring his parents back, or Sirius, or Cedric, or Hedwig, or anyone. He never wanted to fight in this war, but he'd never had a choice.

 _Born in the U.S.A., I was born in the U.S.A._ _Born in the U.S.A., born in the U.S.A._

Attending the funerals of those fallen in the last battle was hard. This could have been avoided if the adults had done their duty instead of running and letting kids and teens do all their dirty work. Instead, he had to deal with glares and whispers of hate and distrust, as if all these deaths were somehow his fault.

 _Come back home to the refinery_ _Hiring man said "son if it was up to me"_ _Went down to see my V.A. man_ _He said "son, don't you understand"_

Harry finished his final year and went to apply for Auror training. He was turned down with a stiff, "You've done your job," before being sent on his way. He went to go see Kingsley about it. The secretary ignored him. Harry left.

 _I had a brother at Khe Sahn_ _Fighting off the Viet Cong_ _They're still there, he's all gone_

He glared from over his glass at the blond sitting at the bar. Malfoy got to get married and live. Ron had to leave his girlfriend and family behind and die. It wasn't fair, life wasn't fair.

 _He had a woman he loved in Saigon_ _I got a picture of him in her arms now_

Hermione never got over Ron's death. To be honest, neither did Harry. Hermione at least had a job to distract her from the pain, though.

 _Down in the shadow of the penitentiary_ _Out by the gas fires of the refinery_ _I'm ten years burning down the road_ _Nowhere to run ain't got nowhere to go_

Sitting on the small bed in the corner of a small room, staring at a worn picture held loosely in his hand, was a man nearing his thirties. He was worse for wear with his long, unkempt hair, scruffy chin, old clothes a few sizes too big, and broken glasses resting at his side.

The man grinned a hollow, broken smile.

"Hey mum, dad. Bet you're real proud of me, huh? Jobless. Wifeless. The kids hate me, my friends want nothing to do with me. This time it was a bar fight, so you might as well add "drunk idiot" to the list."

Harry let his head rest against the wall he was leaning against. Where did it all go wrong? Ah, who's he kidding. His life's always been messed up. He's just messed up more lives because of it.

 _Born in the U.S.A., I was born in the U.S.A._ _Born in the U.S.A., I'm a long gone daddy in the U.S.A._ _Born in the U.S.A., born in the U.S.A._ _Born in the U.S.A., I'm a cool rocking daddy in the U.S.A._


End file.
